


Believe It

by momothesweet



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, Secrets, references to naruto, specifically matsukawa has a secret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 19:36:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7119610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/momothesweet/pseuds/momothesweet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hanamaki's noticed a few things about Matsukawa that lead him to believe that maybe their relationship won't work out, after all. What's he hiding? Or, rather, <i>who's</i> he hiding?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Believe It

**Author's Note:**

> Originally a drafty drabble I posted last night/this earlyass morning on my [Tumblr](http://shoujomomo.tumblr.com/post/145517856910/believe-it). Don't click the link unless you want a spoiler as to what Matsukawa's secret is! (It's included right at the top of the post, haha)
> 
> I've really been wanting to write something that focuses on these two but, naturally, my ideas turn into poop and pass right through me. I like how this one turned out, though, so I hope you all enjoy it. :)
> 
>  
> 
> ~~(Also yes I made a poop joke I am definitely a professional adult writer person™)~~

He’s getting dressed again.  
  
This time, it’s earlier. The sun is barely out and shining through the window when Hanamaki watches Matsukawa find his pants amongst the strewn clothes on the floor. This is the third time he’s done this in a month. Only some deity out in the cosmos knows how many times he’s done this in total in the three months they’ve dated. The excuses don’t seem to add up, either.  
  
“I have work.”  
  
“My parents are in town.”  
  
“There’s someone coming over to fix my air conditioner.”  
  
“My pet rock died.”  
  
Hanamaki wonders what it’ll be this time.  
  
Turning over from his comfortable position in bed, he forces his eyes fully open and blinks several times to put Matsukawa into focus. At this point, he’s sliding on his pants and zipping them up. Matsukawa makes eye contact with him for half a second, and he doesn’t look like he wants to stare back at him any longer. In any other given time, they would have staring contests that would often result in uproarious, unexplainable laughter that would disturb the neighbors. They have a good time together; it’s been that way since they met at a bar on some fateful Friday night. That night onward, it’s been regular drinks at the bar (but never too many to get completely smashed, Hanamaki notices), ridiculous commentary sessions in empty movie theaters, and all-around shenanigans he hasn’t experienced since college. Being with him always means good, clean(ish) fun.

Then Matsukawa really starts to get under his skin, tells him all the things he still wants to do in his life before he dies, his favorite moments from high school and his regrets, even though everyone says they shouldn’t have any. There’s something about those conversations that make Hanamaki think he’s still hiding something, but it doesn’t bother him all that much. He’s never grown this attached to someone in so little time. There’s no goddamn way he wants to get rid of him.

It takes some convincing for him to stay over for a night at his apartment, for some strange reason, especially when Matsukawa’s clearly expressed that he likes him back. Nights out on the town turn into staying in and watching movies or anime until kissing turns into heavy petting and soft moans of each other’s name. Hanamaki can only remember one time when he manages to linger in his bed. Even that didn’t feel very long. When he offers to go to his place instead, Matsukawa brushes the idea off the table, mentioning something about grouchy neighbors and thin walls. Normally, neither of them would care how much noise they would make, but now that Hanamaki’s watching him look on the ground for more articles of clothing, he’s beginning to think where they’re actually going with this...thing they have between each other.  
  
“Hey,” Hanamaki says. Exhaustion with a heavier hint of suspicion coat his greeting.  
  
Matsukawa finds his shirt and turns it outside in before putting it on. Judging by how slow he’s getting dressed, he’s still exhausted, too. “Hey. I’m sorry, I—”  
  
“Are your parents back in town?” The questions start to pour out like a broken dam despite his fatigue. “They seem to come and visit you often. Or did you get called into work again at the crack of Naruto’s ass in the morning on a Sunday? Or how about—”  
  
“Takahiro.”

The way Matsukawa says his name—his _first_ name—almost makes Hanamaki guilty for calling him out. His stomach drops and Matsukawa looks at him, an expression unreadable because it looks like he prefers to sleeping right now. Sleeping somewhere else, maybe. In his own bed? Without him?  
  
Matuskawa’s phone vibrates on the stand next to the bed and it’s as if someone turned a switch on his back so he can make a run for the device. Hanamaki’s noticed that, too. Besides the selfies and sharing stupid viral videos, he never gets to see his phone. One morning in bed when he wanted to leave a solo selfie for him, Matsukawa immediately snatched his phone away before he could even turn on the screen. He never got an explanation for that. Maybe now’s the time to get one.  
  
“Hello?...Yeah, yeah, I’m coming, I’m so—Yeah, I’m going to tell him right now...Because I’m a fucking idiot and you won’t shut up. Whatever. Get your beauty rest, Oikawa. You’re gonna need it. If she wakes up, tell her daddy will be there soon.”  
  
Hanamaki’s heart skips a beat. Tell him what? Who’s this “her” person? _Daddy???_

A slurry of questions he’d never thought he’d think about while being with him run through his head. Matsukawa’s not married, is he? Is that why he’s been going home early and hiding his phone? Is he getting a bunch of texts from his needy wife who’s apparently really into kinky shit early in the morning? Is Matsukawa actually some cookie cutter asshole who likes to have affairs? What does that make Hanamaki? A mistress? Wait, no, what’s the male version of a mistress—  
  
“Hey.”  
  
Hanamaki’s so lost in thought Matsukawa has to bring him back to earth with the sound of his voice. He sits up in bed and brings his knees closer to his chest so he can drape his arms over them. This isn’t the way he wants to address things and very likely end them. It’s a shame, too. Hanamaki really likes him. He braces himself for the impact, hoping it won’t hurt too much when Matsukawa speaks up.

Except he’s the one to talk first. “So daddy, huh? I didn’t know you were into that.”  
  
Matsukawa purses his lips. He’s never done that before. More guilt washes over Hanamaki’s body. It’s rare that they’re serious with each other. Besides those long conversations on the hoods of their cars and on the rooftop of his apartment building, it’s always been about fun and spontaneity with him. The other relationship stuff gets complicated. They’re both aware of that. Hanamaki’s stomach turns in an uncomfortable position when Matsukawa lets out a long sigh and throws his phone on the bed next to him. Hanamaki looks down at the phone, then back up at Matsukawa.  
  
“Turn on the screen.”  
  
He raises an eyebrow and scratches his head, then follows what Matsukawa says. He expects some cute selfie of him and his wife, at an exotic location or at some festival in yukatas eating soba noodles and kissing or some shit that will probably make him throw up for more reasons than the fact that it’ll probably be cute.  
When he pushes the power button, his throat goes dry.  
  
It’s not what he expects at all.  
  
There is a girl in the photo. That much is true. The girl, though, is small enough to be in Matsukawa’s arms. And she is in his arms—smiling so wide that the photo was probably taken in the middle of her laughing, likely due to the fact that Matsukawa has colored ink all over his face like he was just used as a human coloring book. It doesn’t seem to matter why he looks like that, though, because he’s smiling wide, too, wider than he’d ever seen him in person.  
  
That’s what he’s been hiding. _She’s_ who he’s been hiding. For three months, Hanamaki’s noticed a few details, but definitely not all of them. For three months, he looked over the texts that express how he wants to meet at very specific times and almost exclusively on the weekends. He looked over how tired he looks at times when they go out for drinks, how he hesitates when they pass by a children’s clothing store and how he has to take a few minutes to clean out his car before he can get in. That explains the doll wedged in the glove compartment...  

Hanamaki can’t say anything right now. He swallows a few times to try and regain his voice, but in the time it takes him to do that, Matsukawa speaks again and takes a seat on the edge of the bed, back turned to him.  
  
“My babysitter-of-the-year has an emergency meeting with his modeling team in Tokyo or something. I have no clue. But I need to pick Ino up.”  
  
_Ino_. The name sticks in his head as Hanamaki scoots up to the edge of the bed with Matsukawa, bunching up the sheets at his legs and ultimately pushing them off the mattress so that it drapes over him and spills onto the floor. He hands back Matsukawa’s phone, which he takes hesitantly, then takes his hand in his, interlacing their fingers. Matsukawa looks up at him like he’d just performed the first step to some ritual that will smite him for keeping this secret from him.  
  
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Hanamaki asks. “She’s cute.”  
  
He looks way again, shrugging. “She cramps my style?”  
  
Hanamaki snorts. “Dude, she makes you look better if anything.”  
  
“I guess that’s true,” Matsukawa says, laughing with him. His chuckles fade out after a beat and he drops his voice. “Everyone I’ve dated so far dumped me when I told them straight up. Not into kids and all that. I figured you’d be one of those people if I told you right away.”

“Well,” Hanamaki starts as he squeezes his hand, “I’m not one of those people. You could have an army of children and I’ll still think you’re hot and fun to be around.”  
  
Matsukawa hides the smile curling on his face. He turns on his phone screen again with his free hand and looks at the picture. At second glance, Hanamaki notices that Ino can’t be any older than five years. She has Matsukawa’s dark hair, grown out to her shoulders and going in a thousand different directions. She also inherited his eyebrows, full and scrunched together from laughing so hard at her dad. Hanamaki laughs, too. He’s got a ton of questions lined up for him about Ino, but there are two that are of high priority.  
  
“Can I meet her? Like, today?”  
  
Matsukawa hesitates, then nods, smiling wider. “Sure. If you can find your pants on this floor. She’s also kinda shy when she meets new people. Plus she’ll be really tired if we’re picking her up this early. You’ll be lucky if she says hi to you.”  
  
“Sounds like my entire life,” Hanamaki muses. He leans in to kiss his cheek, which Matsukawa returns with a peck on the lips. His chest warms. Nothing’s really changed this morning. Hanamaki learned something new about Matsukawa and Matsukawa’s still hot and he’s going to need to find his pants and comb his hair if he’s going to meet his daughter.

But not before he gets his second question out of the way.  
  
“Ino, huh? As in...Yamanaka Ino?”  
  
Matsukawa smirks.  
  
Hanamaki got his answer.

**Author's Note:**

> More single dad AUs pls
> 
> Comments, kudos, suggestions and Naruto references are always appreciated <3


End file.
